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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27166469">Aconite</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Legionnaire24601/pseuds/TheStarlingFiles'>TheStarlingFiles (Legionnaire24601)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Tales From The Discord [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hannibal Lecter Tetralogy - Thomas Harris</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 07:22:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,563</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27166469</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Legionnaire24601/pseuds/TheStarlingFiles</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The clouds part and in the light, Clarice half rises only to stop, realizing her mistake. From her peripheral the grass to her left rustles and begins to part with horrific slowness.  A low growl cuts through the grass as a dark massive shape began taking form.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hannibal Lecter &amp; Clarice Starling, Hannibal Lecter/Clarice Starling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Tales From The Discord [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2172171</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Aconite</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>special thanks to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladywolfsbane/pseuds/Ladywolfsbane">Ladywolfsbane</a><br/>for letting me fiddle around with her<a href="https://auchen.tumblr.com/post/625935432077737984/so-i-wrote-a-short-prologue-thing-for-the">Werewolf Au.</a></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A cold north wind had begun to moan by the time the sun went down. Above, what little light remained was slowly being strangled out by the wispy fingers of the black stratus clouds clawing their way across the darkening sky. Clarice Starling stood alone, and shivering, in her rain sodden coat along the trail that led into Arcas field. She frowned, her eyes glancing between her drenched map and the massive wolf tracks that she’d followed through the forest.</p><p>The prints had disappeared into a massive meadow of relatively untouched land, which if her map was correct, spanned across for several acres, before hitting the tree line of the dense Park Forest. In the distance an Owl hooted, the only sound against the steady patter of rain. A sense of unease filled her and a muscle in her jaw began to tense rhythmically.   Drawing her coat tighter around her, Starling breathed in deeply, taking in the sharp scent of dead leaves and damp earth and allowed it to fill her lungs, grounding her. She looked back down at the map.</p><p> Lyk’aon’s bridge was only a little more than 600 yards from her position. A river used to run through the field, and though time had dwindled the river to nothing more than that of a wide and shallow creek, flanked at the sides by a short, steep ravine, the bridge, remained. Cross it and she’d be at the rangers cabin. She could feel the weight of the keys in her back pocket against her.</p><p>All she’d have to do is cross it. She looked at the massive Wolf tracks, the ones that looked far too similar to human hands and swallowed hard.</p><p>
  <em>Go forward or go back?</em>
</p><p> The wind began to rise in a shrill scream. Clarice raised her head, and looked back down the trail, the way she had come.</p><p>
  <em>Go forward or go back?</em>
</p><p>The woods, arrogant and patient, offered no answer, standing tall and silent against the now pitch black hills. Instinct told her immediately that going through the field was not ideal. The grass here had grown well above her head; she’d barely be able to see. She blinked against the rain. And amended… She could barely see now.</p><p>To turn back meant to try again in another month, when the full moon returned. To turn back meant that there could be another attack.</p><p>
  <em>Go forward or go back?</em>
</p><p>She remembered Ollie Valentine.</p><p> Rude, Vicious, Ollie Valentine, torn apart and lying frozen in a pool of his own blood, his pale round face permanently twisted into a horrified, silent, scream.</p><p>Had he deserved that? Did anyone?</p><p> She pocketed her map, and touched the handle of the Woodsman holstered at her side before swinging off the shoulder strap of her father’s old Remington rifle, taking comfort in its solid and steady weight against her hands.  The rain is coming down harder and Starling gazes up warily.</p><p>The clouds had now gathered together, drawing darkness within, promising thunder. If she were to follow, she’d have to go now or risk losing the wolf’s tracks.</p><p>She pushed forward.</p><p>In the distance, somewhere within the woods an owl hooted, the sound drifting along on the now shrieking wind, rustling the stalks of the tall grass.</p><p>It made her feel lonely.</p><p>Thunder rumbled its reply</p>
<hr/><p>Clarice had been following the tracks for a considerable time when she sees it. A great black mass stalking silently in meadow, the tall blades of grass sway in unison with its movement. She is so shocked she has to bite her tongue to keep her from gasping out loud at the sight of it.</p><p>Hands clenching her father’s gun tightly, mouth tasting of iron, Starling watches her breath mist out white in the cold. Fear prods at her suddenly racing heart. Beyond the scope of her rifle, through the haze of rain, she can see the shadowed figure in the distance.</p><p>There is a wolf crouching there.</p><p>She blinks. And in the rain the figure shifts.</p><p>No…a man… man she knows.</p><p>Taking a deep breath, she forces herself to creep silently towards him, aims the Remington steady, right where his temple ought to be. And just as she feels she may get the drop on him, the light of the moon is completely obscured by rain clouds. Fighting back a rush of panic at being temporarily blind in the dark, Starling goes still completely, and waits for her eyes to adjust to the gloom.  The figure in front of her shifts again. She pushes forward. The Rifle’s barrel parts the long grass, only to hit nothing but empty air. Surprised, Clarice pulls away from the sight of the scope and squints down to where the ground suddenly disappeared from sight.</p><p>It’s—</p><p>It’s the fucking ravine.</p><p>She curses, and in the soft echo of her own voice it slowly dawns on her that the world around her has gone silent. And it has been silent for a while. The only sounds she’d been hearing for the last several minutes now has been the low murmuring of distant thunder and the steady patter of rain.</p><p>The common sounds of the forest, the damn owl; the crickets and the off tune chirping of unseen critters had stopped. The Forest was dead.</p><p>The clouds part and in the light, Clarice half rises only to stop, realizing her mistake. From her peripheral the grass to her left rustles and begins to part with horrific slowness.  A low growl cuts through the grass as a dark massive shape began taking form. Starling turned to face him and she felt her entire body stiffen against her will, her breath caught in her lungs as he rose up and over her, blocking what little moonlight was left.</p><p>Not a man, no, inhuman, a huge, shaggy wolf, standing unnaturally on its rear legs.  The top of his great head and broad, fur covered shoulders were lit by the moon, tracing the edges with the smooth blade of pale white light. His dark eyes gleamed with hunger. The Snout wrinkled back in a snarl.</p><p>Instinctively, she half sprung, half lurched to her right, swinging in the same movement, the Remington low and up in a quick arc. Aiming, at the paw- the paw with human fingers, and claws where the nails should be—that was moving fast and hard towards her. Blinding Light exploded from the barrel of the gun as it went off, just as a massive set of claws swiped through the air where her head had been. Thick black blood erupted from the top of the beast’s paw where the silver bullet had grazed it, and it roared in pain and rage.</p><p>Lightning Flashed.</p><p>Her back hit the ground hard, hot white agony lacing up her shoulder from the rifles violent recoil. The Wolf crouched low, the muscles of its haunches coiled tight, beneath thick fur, ready to spring forward. Clarice scrambled backwards in an effort to put distance between her and the enraged monster, misjudged the space completely, and tumbled over the edge of the ravine. She had enough time to witness the floor plate of the Remington burst open, and the cartridges of her bullets glint blue briefly as they flew out, before she hit the shallow, freezing waters of the creek below.</p><p> The cold water that engulfed her entire body felt like hundreds of needles were suddenly being pushed into her skin. Starling opened her mouth, hitched a great gasping breath and immediately gagged as cold water rushed into her mouth and lungs. She sat up, coughing, the creek water reaching up and clinging coldly to her chest, dragging down her jacket, making her movements slow and heavy. The wind was blowing rain into her eyes, making it difficult to see against the pale and bitter stinging veil. But she can make out the wolf. The wolf that had crawled its way down the ravine and had now slipped, with ease, into the water several feet in front of her. </p><p>Panic settled into her chest and spread like a wildfire. Starling hastily began to wipe at her eyes to clear her vision with one hand and with the other, fumbled for her side arm. It’s slow work, or at least it feels slow to her  because her hands are shaking so badly as she watches, panting and frightened, the black beast stalk towards her, her fingers have gone completely numb with both cold and fear. She un-holsters the Colt .38 woodsman, and shrugs off her jacket in quick succession and lurches— slips— to her feet. Teeth chattering, breathing hard, Clarice aims the heavy revolver at the wolf’s head. It pauses in its approach, ears flattening and a low hiss of warning emanates so deep and long from its throat and Starling imagines for a moment that she can feel it vibrate through her entire body.</p><p>Lightning snapped across the sky, far too close for comfort, illuminating the both of them. With the brief light, she sees in its face a pair of familiar maroon eyes, recognition slowly dawning in them. She almost drops the gun in shock.</p><p>Neither of them moved.</p><p>Hannibal?</p><p>His name plumbed white in the cold air between them and immediately the wolf padded a step backwards, a soft almost human sigh slipping past its gaping fangs.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
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